Let the Searchers Come But Never Find Us
by Dclnsfrd
Summary: How did Mags win? Story inspired by "Fall Asleep" by Jars of Clay. (WARNING: M-rating due to suicidal thoughts and allusions to sexual activities. Possible PTSD and suicidal thoughts triggers.)
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hello, everyone! Well, I found the courage to at least start another fanfic. This idea came to me some months (a year?) ago while listening to "Fall Asleep" by Jars of Clay. I heard it, and suddenly realized that it would be perfect as a Hunger Games Fanfic. I hope you enjoy this! Please leave a review letting me know what you think.**

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When her name was called as the female tribute for the 9th annual Hunger Games, Mags felt her body take a brief respite: no air in her lungs, no thought in her mind, no curiously frail rhythm in her chest. After a moment, she noticed everyone stare at her with pitying eyes and she remembered that it was time to approach the stairs to the Town Hall building to stand next to the announcer. On a Reaping Day, most people called those steps the Chopping Block.

"What are you doing," her sister asked, holding her by the wrist. Mags turned her head and stared in confusion at her older twin, Annie. "They called me, not you, Annie," she added. Mags' knees went weak as Annie walked past her, her sister's hand upon her wrist replaced with two more. She looked and saw Gil and Finn, their heads giving a slight shake as they lowered in guilt. She stared at them, eyes wild with hurt, and collapsed to her knees. She might have been able to run and volunteer in her sister's place if those two weren't still holding onto her. They knew her better than to give her that chance. She didn't know how easily they could betray her sister by saving her. She squeezed her eyes closed to the point of pain, as if she could wring the tears out more quickly that way. As the only response to a call for female volunteers was silence, Mags understood that the town's cruelty towards Annie in favor of her went far deeper than she expected. She crouched into a fetal position, allowing hyperventilation to take over as she tried to drown out the silence. She imagined that someone wanted to tell the truth, that someone tried to say that Mags was still in the crowd and that Annie could go free. But as she heard her own name proclaimed as one of the tributes from District 4, she heard something repeated again and again until she realized it was coming from her own mouth.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Hello! I hope you enjoy this next installment. Please make sure to leave a review!**

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Though Annie had grown up in this hell of government-regulated social cannibalism, each year bringing forth new ways for citizens of Panem to kill each other while others were forced to cheer, these yearly Hunger Games were still so new. Though the Capitol made sure to read the Treaty of Treason every day on television for as long as she could remember, it was suspected that the Capitol was not very much more knowledgeable than the rest of the nation about what exactly the Hunger Games were supposed to be like in this new way of life. This was mostly due to the fact that among the announcer's droning, each reading seemed just a little longer than it was the day before.

Whispers went around that the Gamemakers were creating rules every year, if not every week. Those who whispered a little too loudly were never seen again. After certain games, the same Head Gamemaker would be kept for the following year or two, while other games were directed by a new person so frequently that some swore the changes were happening during the Games.

The Head Gamemaster for the first year was quickly replaced the following year, heralded in by a replacement and a new fixture for the Games. His decision to give all of the children supplies was replaced by the Cornucopia. Another year, the change was preceded by an especially gruesome Games on a mountain where tributes were often lured into rocky areas before an explosion triggered a rockslide as cameras would stay fixed on a tribute's slowly extinguishing life. When a new Gamemaster was interviewed on TV for the upcoming Games, people would wonder if it was because the last year was too grotesque or too merciful. Annie hoped that this year would be one that was too merciful, but such delusions could not stop her hands from trembling.

As she and the male tribute were escorted from the Town Hall towards the train platform, one of the mentors for District 4- a young woman named Mahi- looked at her vacant expression and quickly whispered, "Sharks go after blood in the water." Annie jolted and saw her mentor's glance at the nearby reporters and her shaking hands before directing her attention elsewhere, donning a smile for the cameras.

 _Have the Games begun so soon_ , she wondered, but shrugged it off. _The Games began before I was born._

Taking a smile as wide as the grave, Annie decided to try to channel her fear and confusion and anger and despair into a mad joy. She spun around and leapt along like a young pup on a walk, crying out in a sing-song voice, "The Games! The Games! I get to be in the Games!" For good measure she tried to fake a delighted laughter, but it grew and grew, stopping just short of screaming. As the doors closed and the train took off, she cupped her hands around her mouth to make it stop. Mahi stooped down next to her, motioning for one of the attendants to escort the very confused male tribute to another room and wait on him.

"That's one way to handle it," she said once Annie began to breathe normally.

Annie pressed her hands to her mouth so tightly that she could feel her teeth pressing to her flesh. She tried so hard to mute the rage within her, but she could not stop it from trailing down her cheeks, mingling with the tears of her sister still lingering on her dress.

She had worked to the point of exhaustion to earn enough "I owe you"s to keep her sister from this, told the adults that it would either be her or their own children, threatened the other kids with public humiliation and reporting them to the Peacekeeprs, that she didn't think about if she succeeded. As Mahi took her by the hand to the dining area where the other tribute waited, she looked out one of the windows at the passing scenery. For a moment, she wondered if she could just crash through it and avoid the unknown horrors before her. But she gripped Mahi's hand more tightly until the thought passed. Who's to say the Gamemakers wouldn't "find" some law about using a tribute's next of kin?


End file.
